


Balcony - Season 3 Ep 4

by ultragirlvfr750



Series: Reboot The Closer [2]
Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultragirlvfr750/pseuds/ultragirlvfr750
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From my Reboot The Closer series.  Deleted scene of what happened at the end of Ep 4 - Season 3 of The Closer</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balcony - Season 3 Ep 4

Brenda was smoking. Sharon could smell the acrid scent even before she stepped outside.

Whatever it was, it must have been awful.

They’d been sleeping together long enough that Sharon knew Brenda only snuck out with her battered package of cigarettes when the scenes she witnessed at work were particularly heinous. It had been months since she’d needed a fix, had a case this gruesome, and Sharon gently slid the glass door closed, gazing for a moment at her lover.

The tiny blonde stood wrapped in a raggedy kimono robe and huddled against the railing with one arm clamped against her stomach, a cigarette clenched between two fingers of her other hand. Smoke drifted in a lazy curl above her head, a tall glass of Merlot was forgotten beside her.

This time she hadn’t given Sharon much warning. Texts had lit up the Captain’s phone earlier that evening.

BLJ- David’s in trouble but we found her.

And then

BLJ- I can let myself in.

Sharon had come home to a bathroom full of steam and the Deputy Chief on the balcony lost in her own world staring out into the winking lights of the city.

"I’m sorry, I think I used up all your hot water," Brenda’s words were raw and Sharon’s chest ached at the sound of them. She went to her then, gently enfolding the smaller woman in her arms.

"I don’t care about the water," she whispered against Brenda’s ear. She could smell the floral scent of the shampoo Brenda used and noticed how she’d rubbed her arms raw.

"I just had to get his sickenin’ smell off of me. I was stuck in there for hours, as sweet as you please, gettin’ that confession".

Sharon said nothing, only tightened her grip and rocked Brenda gently her lips lightly brushing her temple, her breath a soothing hum.

"Her name was Ruby. She was eight years old."

Sharon felt Brenda tense in her arms and she reached up and smoothed the wet curls that were plastered against her forehead.

"She loved the violin," Brenda continued relentlessly, "she was terrible, really, but she loved it anyway. Given more time," her voice wavered and she coughed. It sounded more like a bark as she shook her head. "But not now. That’s something we couldn’t give her. I didn’t,….we couldn’t. There was never any time.”

Brenda’s voice sounded like ground glass and the tiny head of Priority Homicide stabbed the last of her cigarette violently into the side plate she was using as an ashtray. 

“She was just walkin’ home…”

Brenda pushed out against the railing and whirled around, burying her head in the crook of Sharon’s neck, her arms clutching at Sharon in a stranglehold around her waist. She vomited the story out in a choppy rush, her shoulders shaking.

“She was in the park. The dogs, oh god the dogs were howlin’. David was yellin’ for her. Sharon, there was a garbage bag. Her little sneaker. And then her foot. And then David, oh my David, was backin’ up. Trippin’ and cryin’. All that time that bastard let us think we might bring her home…….”

Her voice gave way to cries as sobs wracked her tiny frame.

Sharon held her fiercely as Brenda broke apart, whispering an endless stream of nonsense words, simply calming her with the gentle lull of her voice.

Brenda’s breath hitched in her chest and she raised her head. Sharon lifted both her hands and swept away the tears with her thumbs and then cupped Brenda’s face in her palms. The ache in Brenda’s eyes was endless and Sharon forced herself to witness the other woman’s pain. Forced herself not to look away.

Brenda closed her eyes and sighed. She tipped her chin up and ever so slowly brushed her lips against Sharon’s. Even in the midst of her lover’s grief Sharon felt a hot curl of desire in her belly and she opened her mouth slightly.

Brenda dove in, her tongue pushing roughly into Sharon’s mouth, her hands grabbing at Sharon’s waist, yanking her closer. She crushed her mouth against Sharon’s, hard and desperate, biting and sucking at her lower lip. Sharon abandoned herself to the kiss, allowing Brenda to take what she needed.

Brenda pulled back, panting, her breath hot against Sharon’s neck.

"I got ‘im," there was no joy in her voice, only a tired resignation, "I got that piece of molestin’, murderin’, racist trash to admit it. I’m probably gonna have to write David up, when what he really deserves is a medal. Oh, and he’s sleepin’ with Irene Daniels, which is just another headache."

She let out a short grunt of laughter.

"I know I’m one to talk," she rushed on before Sharon could say anything.

Sharon raised one eyebrow but held her tongue.

"But I can’t think anymore about this mess tonight. I can’t."

"Shush then," Sharon ghosted her lips along the side of Brenda’s cheek allowing them to linger at the corner of the blonde’s mouth.

She trailed kisses lightly down Brenda’s neck, her hands moving involuntarily to the opening of the lithe blonde’s robe, palming her breasts, feeling the nipples harden at her touch.

"Sharon?" Brenda moaned.

"Mmmmm."

“I need you to fuck me. Please.”

Sharon’s only answer was to pull Brenda back toward the balcony door and the bedroom beyond.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea was to try to write this Reboot series in order. But I'm finding it's not working that way. Having said that instead of waiting to post these I am going to post them anyway but in the title I will label where the scenes fit, in what season and what episode they belong. Hopefully there will be a number of these that will follow in a linear fashion but for the occasional ones that do not - I hope they will still make sense.


End file.
